Infirmed
by RunningGladiator
Summary: Olivia is sick and wishing Fitz could take care of her. Originally posted on my tumblr blog.


The room was dark, the only light coming from above the stove as he walked into the kitchen. He set the two reusable shopping bags down on the counter and began to remove their contents. After opening a few cabinets he found the glasses and filled one with orange juice. He really didn't know her kitchen well so he was sure it would take him twice as long to put away the groceries he had brought. He found a bowl, careful not to burn himself as he poured the steaming chicken soup into it.

_I'm pretty sure this isn't in my job description _he thought, putting the juice and soup onto a tray along with a bottle of spring water, ibuprofen, and cold medicine.

He quietly walked down the hallway, pausing at the door to knock lightly. He heard a groan from the other side of the door then, "What?" in an impatient, nasal tone.

"Ms. Pope I have some soup for you" He said as he slowly opened the door, "The President asked me to be sure you had what you need."

She barely looked up from her spot on the mussed sheets with discarded tissues all around. Her nose was red and she wore no makeup, her normally perfect curls askew on the pillows.

"Thanks Tom" she whispered, sniffling. She sat up when Tom placed the tray on the bed. He had arranged everything, not forgetting a detail down to the carnation he had sitting in a bud vase. She found Tom so kind and often thought any woman would be lucky to have him as a husband.

"Is there anything else you need before I go?" he allowed his guard down just slightly, giving her a smile.

"No" he could tell in her voice there was something else she wanted to say, something she couldn't say, at least not to him.

"He said he would call" Tom assured with a nod, "He was concerned, very concerned, that's why he sent me."

"Thanks" she whispered, turning her attention to her soup. She was disappointed that Fitz had sent Tom. Her fever left her feeling exhausted and sad; all she wanted was for Fitz to come take care of her. She smirked as Tom disappeared out the door, it wasn't that Fitz was married that kept him from coming to care for her, not this time. She knew what she was getting into when their relationship started, knew he was married, believed he would be President, but she had still allowed herself to fall in love.

The burner phone sitting atop her nightstand rang, startling her, causing a mixture of excitement and sorrow.

"Hi" she answered softly.

"Hi" despite her illness his baritone ignited an ember deep inside her, "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible" she lamented, "I have a fever and my whole body hurts."

"Did Tom drop off everything you need?" Fitz asked shooing Cyrus from his office then leaning back in his chair.

"Yes" her voice sounded like a small child's. He wished he could be there to hold her but his schedule didn't give him a spare moment.

"Did you take your medicine and eat your soup?" his voice was soft like he was talking to Jerry or Karen. She sounded so sweet when she was sick. No one who had gone to battle against Olivia Pope would believe how docile she was when she had the flu. He chuckled in spite of himself.

"Are you laughing at me?" she whined, doing her best to sound indignant, "I can't believe you're making fun of me when I'm sick."

"I'm not making fun of you" he soothed, "I'm sorry I can't be with you Livvie. Can I call you later?"

He heard her sigh, "Fine"

"I love you Livvie" his voice dropped as he whispered.

"Then why aren't you here taking care of me?" she pouted.

"Not fair, Livvie" his voice took on a more serious tone. He ran his hand through his hair, "You know I would be with you if I could."

She didn't wait for him to finish or say goodbye, simply pressing _End _and turning back to her now lukewarm soup. She took a spoonful then set the tray aside, laying back and closing her eyes in hopes sleep would make things better.

**X-X**

Fitz checked his watch for the fifth time in the half hour he had been sitting in the security briefing. Cyrus gave him a hard look then continued speaking, quite sure Fitz was elsewhere.

"Why don't we continue this tomorrow?" suggested the Chief of Staff, "The President has a full schedule and I'm sure he'd appreciate a small break."

Once the other attendees were out of the room and safely out of earshot Cyrus spoke frankly, "Sir, you need to focus. You're distracted and tense. No one has wanted to be around you the past few days. Are you and Mellie fighting again?"

Fitz nearly burst out laughing at the prospect of Mellie upsetting him to a level at which he found it impossible to concentrate on work. There was only one woman who could control his emotions like that, only one woman who owned him.

"Tom" called Fitz, then when the agent appeared, "We're going out."

"Yes Sir" Tom could barely hide a grin.

"Where are you going Sir?" Cyrus inquired, "You have the Joint Chiefs"

"Reschedule it" replied Fitz, sliding on his suit jacket, "I have somewhere to be"

"With all due respect, Sir, you are the President, there is nothing more pressing than that" Cyrus looked confused, "How long are you planning on being gone? What do I tell the staff? What am I supposed to tell Mellie?"

Fitz shrugged on his way out the door, "Tell them whatever you want, Cy, but I'm going out" he called over his shoulder leaving Cyrus shaking his head.

**X-X**

A bout of coughing woke Olivia from her already fitful sleep. She rolled to face the ceiling. It was dark and she wasn't sure of the time, not inclined to find her phone to check. Her body still ached and she felt the chills of fever. She knew she needed to take more ibuprofen but it seemed that even that simple exertion might do her in. She rolled to her side, looking at the framed picture she kept on her nightstand, her with Fitz during his first campaign. He was so handsome; she never had a chance once she looked into his blue eyes, heard his deep, beautiful voice, and felt his fingers light her skin ablaze. She loved him, not simply with her heart but with her mind, her soul, her entire being needed his entire being. She rolled to her back, tears brimming, wishing life were simpler and he could be there with her.

**X-X**

Fitz smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt and straightened his tie as he stepped from the backseat of the car. Tom nodded then followed him into the brick apartment building. When they reached the door to her apartment Fitz considered whether he should knock or use Tom's key. He realized she never really gave him a key. How ironic that Tom had used the key time and again to pack her suitcase or leave her gifts or bring her soup but Fitz always knocked.

Tom saw his uncertainty and reached past him to slide the key into the lock. Fitz's shoulders eased and he quietly stepped into her world.

"Have a good evening Sir" he nodded, "If you need anything…"

"Thank you Tom" replied Fitz then quietly closed and locked the door.

He walked to the kitchen to leave the bottle of wine he'd brought more out of habit than anything. He wondered if she still drank wine when she was sick and it caused him to smile. He looked forward to the years he would spend learning all of these things about her. When nothing could keep him from caring for her when she was ill and they would spend hours snuggled together.

Trying to remember what his mother did when he was sick as a child, he made her a cup of tea. He picked up the few things he had brought with him and carried the tea down the hall. When he reached her bedroom door he stopped, taking a deep breath he nudged the slightly ajar door open.

She lay facing away from him, like a small child in the gigantic bed, dark curls strewn about, lit only by the light of the nearly full moon outside the window. He walked to the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling like he should have knocked, his palms beginning to grow moist with uncertainty. He placed the teacup on the nightstand and sat gingerly on the very edge of the bed. He bent to kiss her temple causing her to stir.

"You came" she whispered.

"I came" he grinned as she turned to face him, "I made you some tea and I brought you these" he held a bouquet of flowers, "I thought they might cheer you up."

"You cheer me up" she brushed her hand on his bicep, "They're beautiful. You didn't have to…I mean I thought you sent Tom because…"

"I couldn't stay away Livvie" he kissed her forehead, "You're burning up. Is it time for more medicine?"

She nodded then watched as he searched out the bottle of pills, placing two in her hand and offered her a bottle of water. She took a long drink, swallowing the pills. He slipped off his jacket, draping it over the chair in the corner. She knew how he undressed by heart. His coat always arranged perfectly over the back of the chair, then he unbuttoned his cuffs before taking a seat to untie his shoes. His shoes always placed perfectly beneath the chair, his socks laid atop them. Next the buckle of his belt followed by the button and zipper. Her heart always raced when he took off his pants, and even in illness she felt her cheeks pink and she dreamily licked her lips. Then his shirt, he was always agonizingly slow when he unbuttoned his shirt, like a striptease he'd performed a million times. She would watch his fingers unclasp each button, his strong chest appearing beneath, then watch as every muscle rippled when he slid the shirt from his torso.

Olivia took another sip of water then placed the bottle next to the teacup on the nightstand. Fitz pulled down the covers from the other side of the bed and slipped in next to her.

"What are you doing?" Olivia's congested voice asked.

"I'm taking care of you" he replied, "Soup, flowers, tea, medicine, and me"

"You're going to get sick too" she couldn't help touching his chest. Her hands were drawn to him, not in a sexual manner but in the way two souls demand to intertwine, "then who will run the country?"

Fitz grinned then slid closer to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face, trailing his fingers along her jaw, down her neck and along her clavicle before letting them ghost along the side of her body.

"I love you and I hate seeing you sick" he whispered kissing her cheek, "You need to rest and you told me once that you sleep best when you're in my arms."

She settled her head against his chest, resting her palm on his sturdy abdomen, unable to keep the smile from her lips when she noticed a stirring in his boxers.

"I love you too" she placed a kiss on his chest then closed her eyes.

Fitz ran his fingers through her hair, leaving several light kisses in their wake. They only had minutes and hours but he knew that eventually they would have years.


End file.
